


Oh! What a Lovely Day

by Iyearnforaplotadvancement



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mental Anguish, OC, Strong Female Characters, TheSquad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iyearnforaplotadvancement/pseuds/Iyearnforaplotadvancement
Summary: A sandstorm blows into the Citadel and with it comes trouble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, my new personal goal for 2019 is to post/update more fics. Here's a story that's been sitting in my files since the end of 2017. Please, please, please lemme know what you think! I'm a big fan of Mad Max (original trilogy and new) and I really like movies where there's a crew and they all work together to kick ass and stuff. So obviously I had to write something off of it.

Furiosa was pissed, over 55,000 people in the Citadel and not one of them could tell her. Not one could tell her...that the damn lift was broken. Again.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, trudging to the main gates of The Citadel. “Tell me why five people and seventeen perimeter scouts can't tell me that the damn lift is broke,  _ again _ ?” Furiosa almost whined. She felt more like a beleaguered mother than an Immortan. But given the history of an Immortan, maybe that was a good thing.  

“Caravan traders, they’re stopping at the limit. Should we go down to trade?” Toast The Knowing asked, bringing the more important matter to her Immortan.

Furiosa coughed into her elbow of her good arm. She blamed the dust and squinted against the bright sun of the desert. She held her good arm out for the binoculars. Toast handed them to her, filling their absence in her own hands with a rifle. The younger woman looked into her scope, down at the caravans.

Furiosa counted three caravans, more than normal. Out of them poured fourteen, maybe sixteen men. One of them unloaded a few crates, she spotted something shiny in them. Another displayed wears, another unloaded people. Furiosa shuddered, then she scowled.

“Toast, do you have the supply list?” Furiosa inquired. 

From her pocket, Toast produced a list. Her blocky and neat handwriting was scrawled on the back of a crumpled piece of parchment from a book that used to belong to Ms. Giddy. Furiosa missed the old bag and was sad to see the old woman's precious items used as such. But in the wastes, they couldn’t afford to let resources go unused.

Furiosa read off the list.

 

_ Fabric _

_ Soap _

_ Real paper-  _ This was written along with a little drawing of Toast’s deadpan face. Toast liked to draw and was surprisingly good at it.

_ Medicine _

_ Sweets?-  _ This was unmistakably Cheedo’s handwriting. Furiosa could almost hear Cheedo’s soft and hopeful voice. 

 

Furiosa hands the list back to Toast.

“Soap and medicine. Fabric, if Dag’s sheep can't deliver. Paper if we can find it and it's not for some ridiculous price,” The Immortan said, picking up her own rifle and racking it. “Shoot a flare, assemble a party. I'll see you down in ten,”

  
  
  


Furiosa hated Caravan People. But she didn't hate them enough to not do business with them. That would be just plain stupid.

It didn't change the fact that when she saw them, huddled together, wearing their uniform gauzy, dark brown scarves, she got a little sick, a little mad.

These the same people who kidnapped her and her mother from home, who stole her mother from her after, who traded her to Joe for two boxes of ammunition and some guzzoline. That was all her life was worth, it seemed. 

Furiosa gritted her teeth as she approached them on her bike, Toast on her right flank, Ace on her left, a slew of up and coming War Boys behind her.

They slowed to a stop and Furiosa dismounted and leaned her bike on its kickstand.

 

The group’s leader stepped up. She remembered meeting him once before. He’s was an older man with a strapping son. As she recalled he liked to compliment Furiosa. She knew  it’s only to sell more stuff, and maybe get into her bed. Afterall, his wife was dead and women are hard to come by.

“Immortan Furiosa,” He greeted, his arms stretched to the sky, his smile was that of a snake. His son did the same, but he didn’t speak. They bowed before her before he got to business. “I have brought you treasures from many far off places. Beyond Barter Town, beyond any place any one has ever known,”

Furiosa recalled this man’s son talking about life before the world burned. He told Furiosa his father was an ‘actor’. Furiosa is was not so young that she didn’t remember the world before the flames, but she’s not so old as to remember what an actor was. In anycase, she thinks it just means the man is really good at bullshitting. 

“And how much will it cost me?” She asked Toast standing right at her side, shouldering her rifle she called John. 

The Caravan leader eyed Toast wearily. After a leering comment and one too many looks, Toast had finally had it and headbutted him something fierce. Since then he had stayed mostly in line since then. 

“Such treasures are costly, but for you Immortan, I’ll keep everything under five barrels of aqua-cola,”

Furiosa scoffed, “Let’s see your wares, then,”

She strided over to the vans, her party breaking up and inspecting the goods behind her. Furiosa had brought water barrels for making bulk purchases. Everyone else carried bottles of water, plus anything else they’ve found that they thought they could trade.

Toasts brought books, small ones, simple ones, ones that the community could live without. Cheedo is the most read of all the girls and she tells Toast which ones that can be traded and which ones that cannot. She kept the best ones for The Citadel to educate the masses in hopes that one day she can teach everyone to read something.

Furiosa had with her spare car parts, not particularly valuable, but good enough for caravan traders who never stop moving. She has also brought with her a cloth bundled with a few seeds. She thought if anything, the seeds may end up somewhere they can grow into strong, big plants. And maybe one day there will be an even greener place. But she doesn’t get her hopes up.

Furiosa has a box of soaps- solid and liquid kinds- loaded onto the bikes within in an hour. She finds no fabric and little medicine. But Furiosa traded for it anyway, in hopes that Capable may be able to do with just a little more. Out here everything helps. The Caravan People have paper, but Toasts finds it’s the thin, sheer kind and she hates it, so that doesn’t come back with them. Finally, Furiosa got her hands on a jar of candies. She recognized them from long ago when she was still a girl and scavenging was still a viable way to live. Cheedo will appreciate it. 

They get away with giving the scavengers three barrels plus whatever individual trades they’ve made. Furiosa stops when just one more thing is brought to her attention.

The slaves the Caravan People have brought are all on display, on their knees, looking towards the ground. Normally the slaves are old or sickly, some of them are already dead and no one giving a damn enough to notice. But there was one.

Chained in a line, off to the side, there is one slave that caught her eye. 

He was hunched over, his breaths labored. The long hair covered his face, as does an unkempt beard.  She thinks…

 

_It can’t be…_

 

“Something catch your eye, Immortan?” asked The Caravan Leader.

Furiosa pointed to the slave, “That man,”

The Caravan Leader snorted, “That animal, you mean,” 

Furiosa looked at the leader with a raised eyebrow. 

“Found him staggering around Barter Town, gaping wound in his head, snarling,” The man explained, “He was covered in paint, bright colors, something from Before Time seemed like. He was mumbling something about a Green Place,” The Caravan Leader shook his head. “Bit me, my son, two of my drivers, actually  _ killed  _ those poor bastards, and probably will kill just about anyone who comes within two feet of him,”

“Can I, see him?” Furiosa asked stiffly, “Up close,”

The Caravan Leader shrugged, “If you want to lose your other arm, I suppose,” he gestured with his hands towards the kneeling man. “Go right ahead,”

Furiosa walked towards the slave, really it felt more like floating. Toast watched her from the bikes, keeping sight on the slave if things got messy.

The Immortan approached the man, cautiously. She kneeled, staring down at him. The slave was silent, his breaths were even and steady. 

“M-Max?” Her voice didn’t even feel like it was coming out of her body. 

Slowly the slave stirred, slowly he looked up, and slowly he registered what was going on. His eyes locked with her’s and he licked his cracked and bloody lips before answering.

“Jessie?”

  
  
  


Furiosa in the end gave The Caravan People all five barrels. Apparently Max was worth more than her at two barrels of aqua-cola and a promise that they wouldn’t try trading him back. 

Toast and Furiosa stayed back with Max, sending Ace forward with the rest of the boys and the supplies.

When Ace was just a speck of dust on the horizon, Toast turned to Furiosa with a furrowed brow and wide eyes, “He is not going on the back of my bike,”

Furiosa would’ve laughed, if she’d been the laughing type. 

“We’ll put him in the empty water barrel trailer,”

Toast shot a look at Max, who stayed in a crumpled pile on the hot sand. She looked at her Immortan, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Dehydration, most likely. We can give him water but it’ll only do so much if we don’t get him out of the heat soon,” Furiosa made a move to grab him, and Max didn’t even flinch. He simply let himself be moved. 

“He’s surprisingly heavy,” Furiosa grunted dragging him into the trailer. Toast sighed and grabbed his feet. The women dumped him into the trailer and got on their bikes. 

“Capable will have quite the surprise,”

“That’s alright, she likes surprises,”

  
  
  


“I hate it when you surprise me,” Capable said, her voice shrill.

“Oh forgive us,” Toast said blandly. She mounted John on the infirmary wall where she kept all her weapons in case of emergency and went back to her post.

“Where did you even find him?”

“Caravan. Slave,” Furiosa replied, watching Capable work over him. 

“He’s badly dehydrated. His skin is blistered. Infection in his left leg, but he’s alive,” Capable said. 

“Can you help him?”

Capable shrugged, “I’m going to try to fix his dehydration, then see where that gets me,”

Furiosa nods, “I’ll get out of your way,”

Furiosa exited the room, leaving Max behind her.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Except she didn't.

Because the doors of the medical bay open straight out to the burning sun and over a cliff and Furiosa is was too stunned and too confused to realize her feet are still going even though her mind has stopped.

She plummeted off the edge, into the abyss, screaming all the way down.

And then she woke up.

  
  
  


Screams followed her into the waking world. But they weren't hers. 

In her bed, Furiosa sat, breathing hard. Her hand searching for her sawed off. Another bout of screams ripped through the air. Furiosa jumped out of the warm comfort of her cot and undid the bar over her door. She ran out into the hall, not even bothering with her arm, not even bothering to set a direction.

The screams were more than enough.

After some time, she realized it was Dag. Furiosa can't quite tell, but more than likely it is her silver haired friend.

The screams echoed off the rock walls, bouncing directly into Furiosa’s head. Eventually after enough panicked running, Furiosa ended up in the right place.

The Organic Mechanic’s workshop had since been changed into a more clean, more inviting ‘Medical Wing’. Furiosa burst forth into the room, aiming her gun at the first face she saw.

That face just happened to be Toast’s however, and in Toast's new line of work, guns were always pointed at her. As such, she didn't flinch, but did scowl something fierce at the gun and at her half asleep, half crazed Immortan.

“You fuckin’ smeg. Put that thing down before you hurt someone,” Toast growled, reaching around Furiosa to grab a bowl of rags as she marched back towards a table.

A fit of coughs tore their way out of Furiosa’s chest. Her throat was tighter than usual which Furiosa credited to going from resting to suddenly running. Her mind focused on the scene unfolding in the medical bay.

Capable was sweating, standing over Dag who reclined on a table. Cheedo was behind Dag, supporting her, whispering words of encouragement in her ear. A few others were there. A former milking mother, Hilda and another older woman who Furiosa recognized, but did not know the name of.

Dag screamed again, pulling Furiosa’s attention to her. She lowered her gun, strangely feeling out of place among them all.

What the hell was happening?

“I can see it's head,” Hilda said calmly, but loudly. 

“Keep pushing, Dag,” Cheedo added.

Oh...oh god the baby.

But that couldn't be right. The baby wasn't supposed to be here for another month. Had The Organic Mechanic lied?

“She's early,” was all Capable said, seeing Furiosa’s confused expression. Capable ducked her head back down to assist Hilda.

“It’s shoulders, Dag,” Capable said, her eyes honed in on the infant that was emerging between Dag’s bloodied thighs. Dag moaned in pain, but bottled it up the next minute and let out a growl. 

Furiosa set her sawed off near the door and came to Dag’s side. She squeezed Dag’s hand. “Shoulders, Dag, you're almost there,” Furiosa said.

This was not Furiosa’s first baby, Angharad had one before the one she carried on The Fury Road. It didn't live long, because Joe didn't let it live long. 

“Is it breathing?” Dag managed to say, between the screams and panting.

Furiosa peaked over, looking at the infant. It was already more than all of the way out, and yet it hadn't cried, hadn't even coughed. Furiosa’s stomach dropped.

“It-,” Furiosa began to speak. But then a shrill cry was heard by all in the medical wing and maybe even beyond.

The Immortan looked the pink, screaming tiny thing in Hilda’s arms and smiled.

“It’s a girl,” Furiosa said.

  
  
  


The baby was sickly and small. But it lived.

Marra, one of the last Vuvalini, called her Sprout, because the baby was fragile and soft, and precious.

Toast called the old woman overly sentimental and nicknamed the baby Bean instead. It would've been Seed, but that brought up some unfortunate memories.

Dag had been laid up in the bed for a week after the baby was born. The baby had been laid up for a month. Dag kept a close eye, despite not holding her once. The baby, who still had no name, had been held by virtually everyone else besides Dag.

“Remember who the child came from,” Marra reminded Furiosa. “Give her time,” 

The baby with no name, grew to four months and was small but gained weight. She grew strong, having been fed and washed and lovingly cared for by The Sisters. At six months Furiosa brought the baby to The Dag’s room.

 

Dag looked at her, confused.

Furiosa looked at her then down at the baby girl and softly said, “You don't need to be afraid of her, Dag. Rictus may be her father, but she isn't his child. She's yours,”

The Dag swallowed, her eyes watered. Furiosa reached her nub arm out towards the younger woman who leaned into it. Dag held onto Furiosa for support, looking at her baby.

“Can I...can I hold her?” Dag asked softly.

Furiosa smiled and held out the baby for her. Dag gently scooped up her daughter into her arms, marveling at the sight of her.

“She's so...delicate,” said The Dag, “Precious,” she continued breathlessly. 

Furiosa sat with them, showing Dag the proper ways to hold and burp the child. When Dag started looking sleepy, Furiosa asked, “Do you want me to take her back to Marra and Capable?”

“Is that where she’s been sleeping?” The Dag asked. Furiosa nodded, “I had the War Boys make a bed for her. It's an old gazzoline barrel, cut in half, sturdy.”

“Could you...could you bring her bed in here?” Dag asked after a moment, “The trip over there might wake her,”

“Sure, I’ll be back,” Furiosa replied, getting up to retrieve the baby’s bed.

On her way out she heard The Dag cooing soft things to her little girl, some of which she was sure was in another language, some of which she was sure was utter nonsense.

When Furiosa returned, The Dag was still holding onto the baby. She and Furiosa parted with brief goodbyes.

In the morning Furiosa had not seen Dag at breakfast and looked for her. 

She found The Dag and the baby, blissfully asleep together on Dag’s bed.

  
  
  


“Happy Birthday, Grunt,” Toast said, knowing the child couldn't yet answer. 

The Dag rolled her eyes. “That's not her name,” 

“Then fang it and pick one, already,” Capable said, setting down a square and solid looking pastry. “Marra helped me bake it,” 

Furiosa bounced the little girl on her knee. One year had passed. Dag’s baby was a treasure. It survived a year, truly a wasteland child.

The Dag and her sisters gather around a small table. That night it was just them, as much as they'd like to have a Citadel wide party, there were more important things than the survival of a welp, just not to Furiosa and the sisters.

The Dag’s baby crawled from Furiosa’s lap and into the arms of Capable. The redhead cooed and smiled at the baby, babbling back to in hushed tones.

Furiosa thought back to when her mother was alive and when she was still small enough to fit in Mary Jo Bassa’s lap. It seemed like another life ago. 

“Where is Cheedo?” Furiosa asked, noticing the youngest of the girls was missing.

“Bringing a present, she read somewhere it was a tradition,” Capable said.

The Dag smiled to herself then at her baby. “This bugger is gonna be spoiled,” 

“This bugger survived The Coughing I think she deserves it...hmm, how about Bugger?” Toasts asks, pinching the baby girl’s cheek.

“How about, no?” Dag replied, flicking her sister in the nose.

Toast swatted at her in a futile attempt to counter attack and Furiosa chuckled.

Cheedo stepped in, a moment later with a small package, in a box. “Happy Birthday, Little Sprout,” Cheedo smiled. 

She kneeled at the table and placed the package on the table. “You'll like this, Dag,”

Cheedo opened the package, revealing a blanket, woven together with yarn, dyed a soft color, not quite red, not quite white. Furiosa’s eyes widen with surprise. The Dag reached over the table and held out the present for all to see.

“Aww, a blanket, Cheedo,” 

“Yeah, your sheep did so well we had leftovers,” Cheedo shrugged, “It's small, but so is she. Maybe we can make her a bigger one next time,” 

The Dag took the blanket and wrapped it around her little girl. The baby squirmed and then settled, nestling in the warmth of her mother. Dag grinned, “Just like a sand flee to a dune,” 

“Let's cut the square,” Toast said, picking up the knife. 

“It's a cake,” Capable replied.

“Let's cut the square cake,” Toast shot back.

Furiosa took the knife from Toast and sliced it into six smaller squares. She dolled them out, each girl passing the slice to the next one down until everyone had a piece.

“To Dag’s little one. Let's hope the next year is just as good,” Furiosa said, hoping,  _ praying,  _ her words wouldn't come back to burn her.

“Yeah, let's hope you'll have a name by next year too,” Toast said, breaking off a piece of cake and popping it into her mouth. “Hey not bad, Capable. What is this?”

Capable answered, through a mouth of cake, “Beetroot and flax, ”

Toast nodded with approval.

Furiosa ate in silence, overlooking her girls, not quite daughters, not quite sisters, and more important than friends. She didn't know what to call them, she just knew they are hers and she is theirs. That was something strangely unsettling but also very comforting. 

  
  
  


Furiosa did not dream of ever seeing Max being traded as a slave nor falling off any cliffs for the next ninety days 

On the hundredth day, she dreamt of the desert, flooded with colors, some of which she forgot the names of, some of which she didn't even think had names. 

Furiosa woke that morning to the sound of The Dag’s baby rapping on her door and of Dag hushing the child, walking them both down the hall.

She spent the morning, lying in bed, wondering what it all meant.

Perhaps nothing. Hopefully nothing.

  
  
  


Days went on, one thousand and twelve. 

Dag’s baby had grown into a strong, bouncing little girl, who they named Ragnarok. In the myths of old, Ragnarok was the end of an era, but also the beginning of a new one. And so the baby was named.

“Rag and Dag,” Toast had said, “I like the ring it’s got,”

Marra and Cheedo had still called her Sprout just because, and Capable called the child a new nickname every time she saw her. Furiosa just called the child by her name, most of the time settling on Ragna.

The baby’s growth almost paralleled The Citadel’s. Each day, a new structure was raised, a new installment in the gardens, another skull and wheel grinded away and replaced with altars to more practical things of worship.

And with each day, Ragna learned something new. A word, a gesture, a way to move without falling, she was growing fast, maybe almost too fast for Furiosa.

The Citadel was becoming something unrecognizable, and Furiosa couldn't have been more pleased. The relationships with Gas Town and The Bullet Farm were not great but were improving every day.

Cheedo continued to teach the Pups and the children of the formerly Wretched. She started each day with a smile and a story and ended them with laughs. Furiosa was happy to see Cheedo the Fragile become strong and determined. 

Toast continued on with the War Boys, a favorite among them. Patrol groups and scouting parties could never get enough of her, whether it was because of her humor or how fast she was with a gun, Furiosa would never know. She saw a lot of her younger self in Toast, something that scared her, but something that made her more fond of her as well.

At night, after the worst of the daily disasters and chores, Furiosa would settle down and let Capable debrief her on the progress of The Citadel’s various projects. Her favorite was always the Organic’s workshop. She loved talking about how much of the place was remodeled, how it was now a place to be healed instead of hurt. And every once in awhile she would put her schematics down and ask with a far away look in her eyes about Nux.

 

“You think he's out there?” she’d ask, her voice low.

“I think anything is possible,” Furiosa said, “I think it's possible now,” 

Capable looked at her, raising her eyebrow, “Why’s that?” 

Furiosa shrugged, fiddling with the straps of her prosthesis. “You and your sisters,” Furiosa said, “You...you make me think it's not all bad. For the first time I think...I think I can see a horizon,”

Capable smiled, latching onto Furiosa, pulling her in close. Furiosa tried to feign a tough resolve, but couldn't and hugged Capable back.

 

Finally at the very end of her day, after the sweat and grime was wiped away, Furiosa made sure to carve out a few minutes with Dag and the baby. Sometimes Ragna would be asleep, sometimes she’d be bouncing off the walls. But almost all the time, Dag would be very happy.

“I can't get her to sleep,” Dag would complain, “She's got too much energy. Maybe we should just power The Citadel on her,”

Of all the people in The Citadel, Dag had seen Furiosa laugh the most. Delirium, Furiosa said, a long day in the sun. But Dag knew a thing or two about delirium and knew that wasn't it.

“Try singing to her, if it won't put her to sleep, it'll at least make her stop moving for a few seconds to try to figure out what you're saying,” Furiosa advised.

“Hmm, what should I sing?”

“Anything, kids like that,”

“Speaking from experience?”

Furiosa smirked, “Yeah. I used to be one,”

Dag rolled her eyes, then shooed Furiosa away. “C’mere Raggie, we’re gonna sing a song. I don't know what it's about, but here we go,”

Furiosa left the two and wandered into her own room.

She let her metal arm drop from her body and climbed into bed, managing only to shuck her boots off before climbing into her cot and falling into restful sleep.

It would be nice to say that the story ended here. And it would be nice to say that The Sisters and Furiosa had led The Citadel to prosperity and that while none of them ever saw the Road Warrior again, they kept him in their hearts as a symbol of strength and resolve. It would be nice to say that.

 

But it would also be a lie.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, not sure if the Mad Max fandom is really alive and thriving anymore, but definitely leave me a comment to tell me what you liked!

Thirty days later a sandstorm-the likes of which no one had ever seen-hit The Citadel.

Furiosa had woke that morning to the sound of a low, hissing moan and only knew two things; there was a storm coming and it was going to shred everything in its path.

Her throat was tight again, chaffed and dry from the arid and hot air. She coughed, her body lurched forward. 

She sprung from bed, barreling out the door. She grabbed the first War Boy she saw by the shoulders and barked out orders, “Sandstorm. Tell everyone to take cover. Spread the word,” 

The War Boy had dropped everything in his hands and ran off, screaming Furiosa’s message. 

Ace had appeared from around the corner. He looked at Furiosa, his face confused. “Immortan?”

“Ace, tell the War Boys to lower the canvases. There's a sand storm. Get everyone inside, now,” Furiosa commanded. Ace hurried off, taking three War Boys with him. 

The Immortan scanned the flurry of War Boys for any sign of the Sisters.

“Toast? Where is Toast?” She shouted over the panic.

“Patrol,” one War Boy called out.

Furiosa cursed under her breath and headed down to Cheedo’s school.

  
  


When Furiosa arrived, the sound of the children singing a song about the alphabet was laid over the sound of a fast approaching storm. Cheedo led the children, singing along with them.

The room was nothing more than a storage place, furnished with a board to write on and a chair for Cheedo.

“Cheedo, the kids need to go home now. There's a sandstorm coming,” Furiosa’s voice cut through the song, silencing the room.

Cheedo’s eyes went wide. She stood from her chair and looked at the kids. “Okay, everyone you heard your Immortan. Get home to your families right now,” 

The kids emptied out the room followed by Cheedo and Furiosa. “Furiosa, grab that black book,” 

Furiosa’s eyes spied a big black book in the corner. She scooped it up into her good arm, realizing she hadn't put her prosthetic on. Cheedo grabbed a few books in her own arms and scurried down the hall. “I'll look for Dag,” she called to Furiosa, “Take the book to Capable,”.

Furiosa hurried the opposite way to the medical bay.   
  


 

When she arrived at the medical bay, she was surprised and relieved to find it mostly cleared out. A few stragglers stumbled out. Capable was in the corner, helping an one legged child out the door.

“Capable-,” Furiosa started.

“I heard,” Capable assured. “Help me get him out,” 

Furiosa strode over to them, dumping the book into Capable’s arms. She ducked her shoulder under the boy’s arm and swept him up into her arms as best she could. “We’re going to the vault. Cheedo said to give that book to you,” Furiosa said, leading the way out.

Capable followed behind, shutting the double doors to the medical bay. 

Furiosa held the child in her arms as she charged down the hall. 

 

“Immortan, the canvases are down, the patrol party is coming in,” cried a War Boy.

“Send the stragglers to the Vault!” Furiosa yelled, “And get inside!”

The halls were emptying out now, Furiosa took it as a sign that the Citadel was taking note of the warnings and buckling down.

Furiosa and Capable stopped outside the Vault door. She set down the child inside the Vault before ushering Capable inside, as well.

Cheedo and Dag waved from the inside. Ragna was curled up in her mother’s arms, hiding her face. 

“Furiosa, where are you going?” asked Capable, noticing Furiosa stepping out.

“I have to get Toast,” Furiosa said, already moving down the hall, “Capable, keep everyone together,”

Without another word, Furiosa headed down to the garages.    
  


 

The garage was still busy when Furiosa arrived. War Boys and pups all worked together, placing protective canvases over the vehicles while some of the Citadelians helped store supplies.

“Where’s the scouting group?” asked Furiosa over the noise.

“Immortan, over here!” that was unmistakably Ace’s voice. Furiosa followed the sound, fighting her way through the crowd.

The scouting group she'd sent out that morning- before a foolish midday nap- had poured into the garage. Furiosa for the first time had seen the storm brewing just over the horizon.

To say it was big would be an understatement. But it hadn't been any bigger than the one she drove the War Rig into so many days ago. Furiosa decided to call that good luck and looked for Toast.

She found the girl running in, her jacket covered in a layer of dust, the rest of her shaking and coughing. 

“Furiosa, the storm-” Toast uttered.

“I know, the people are retreating inside,” Furiosa said.

“It came up on us fast. We lost a bike,” Toast said.

Furiosa’s eyes looked past her at two War Boys riding in on the same bike. 

“Only the bike,” Furiosa said, “That's fine. Your sisters are in the Vault, go with them. Let me close up here. If anyone's straggling tell them to get behind something,” 

Toast nodded, dashing off to find shelter.

Furiosa went to Ace, “is that everyone?”

“Yes, Immortan. The outside doors are sealed shut,” Ace replied. 

“Finish up here and get to cover,” Furiosa said, “Don't come out till I get you,”

  
  
  


Huddled up in the Vault, Furiosa, the Sisters and several other War Boys, Pups, and Citadelians waited for the storm.

Furiosa sat, her head leaned up against a wall. The worried murmurs and hums of the people around her did little to quell the fears and worries of Furiosa. But then again, very little would quell her fears at all.

“Immortan,” said a soft, high voice. 

Her head popped off the wall. She searched the room for the voice and found it belonged to the youn, one legged boy.

“What is it?” Furiosa asked.

“Thank you for saving me,” the little boy said.

She looked at the boy, looked at his stump leg. Her good hand felt the smooth, blunted end of her own arm. 

The little telltale bumps that spattered the boy’s thigh told her all she needed to know about his missing leg.

“I didn't save you,” Furiosa said, “Whoever cut off your leg did,”

The boy leaned in the ask, running his small, dirty hand over the stump. He hummed, thoughtful. 

“I can make you a prosthetic,” she said, “So you can stand on your own,”

The boy cocked his head, “What is that?”

“It's what I wear. The big metal arm. I can make you a leg if you want. But it'll be heavy,” said Furiosa.

The boy hummed again, this time intrigued. He nodded, as if to agree with her and mumbled an, “Okay,”.

Furiosa smirked and ruffled the kid’s hair. She stood. “Sit down, you're gonna be here a while,”

She turned and walked around the hunched over figures in the room.

The wind was howling outside, the sand hissed along with it as it scrapped the canyon walls. 

Furiosa found the Sisters huddled together in a half circle. Cheedo and Capable were leaning on each other, reading from the big black book Furiosa was told to grab while Dag was trying to ease Ragna and Toast sharpened a knife.

“Haven't been this miserable inside this Vault since...well you know when,” Toast mumbled.

“How much longer?” Dag asked miserably.

Furiosa shrugged, “A few more hours? The storm was huge. Could last days,”

There was a collective groan.

Ragna stirred in her mother’s arms and let out an aggravated moan. “Raggie, calm down, love,” cooed Dag.

Furiosa lowered herself to the ground, sitting down with them. “You know this reminds me of a story,” 

“I swear to the V8 if you recite us that Wild Creatures poem, I'm gonna fight you,” Toast said.

Furiosa laughed through her nose. “No, I'm not going to. But I'm glad you remember that story,” Furiosa took in a deep breath, “Its good to remember things like that,”

Capable and Cheedo looked up at Furiosa, closing their book. “What's the story, Furiosa?”

“It's one from the green place, where I grew up. My mother, my birth mother, she told me about this bird that came from a sandstorm just like this one,” Furiosa started.

“What's that?” Toast asked.

“It's an animal that flies. Feathered. We saw a few in the swamps,” Furiosa said, hearkening back to the days of Fury Road. 

“They looked so small,” Dag said.

Furiosa nodded in agreement, “Yeah, birds normally are. But this one that arrived in the sandstorm was big. It was like ten War Rigs put together,” Furiosa said, “It could fly in the sand and wind and not get hurt. And when it did lightning and thunder followed in its wake,” 

Furiosa watched Cheedo and Dags eyes grow wide. She smiled a little to herself, liking how enthralled they looked. “My mother said it was a god. A spirit of the Earth, the people of the old even had a name for it. But that's been lost now,”

“Why does it make storms?” asked Capable,

“Nature of the Earth,” Furiosa said.

“That's a weak reasoning,” butted in Toast.

Furiosa again, shrugged, “Does nature really need a reason?”

Toast shrugged back, “Good point,”

“You should write that story down, it'd be good to have to tell the kids about,” Cheedo said.

“Yeah, the  _ kids _ ,” Toast echoed.

Furiosa softly chastised her with a look, knowing her surly state of mind was due to being locked up again. 

While Cheedo was the youngest of the Sisters, she wasn't the last sister to be taken.

Toast had known freedom, had grown up with it. She may have had to scrape and claw her way by, and being pretty sure helped, but she had been free. It made it all the more a crime when Joe had spotted her stealing water from his trucks and demanded she come away to the Citadel or be killed. Furiosa thought Toast lucky because without a face so pleasant, she wouldn't even have been given the option.

Toast, not being an idiot, chose a gilded cage over a shallow grave. She ended up regretting it.

Furiosa wondered if Toast still did.

The wind began to die down, along with it was the hissing. Furiosa sucked in a long breath and began to recall another story.

“Here's one from a book I read a long time ago. I was very young and the book is lost now, but it's still very good,” Furiosa began.   
  


 

Some time in the middle of the night, Furiosa had woken to the sound of sleeping people and silence.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her good arm and rose, being careful not to disturb Cheedo, who had fallen asleep on Furiosa’s side. 

Furiosa stretched and blinked in the dark. Her mind was hazy but her body seemed like it knew where she wanted to go.

She found herself standing at a glass window. The storm had blown over. Furiosa couldn't exactly make out the damage, but it didn't seem too bad, at least not in the dark.

The window had been scratched by the sand, once clear now fuzzy with the micro cuts from the coarse dirt. 

It was the only one in the whole Citadel. A luxury Immortan Joe called it. Cruelty, it was called by the Sisters. Windows were a nasty thing, like a portal to the outside, except you couldn't travel through it.

“Very eloquent thought, love,” said a voice, sarcastic and good natured.

Furiosa smirked, a comeback danced on her lips. Except, the person who the voice belonged to was-.

“-Dead?” 

Furiosa froze, her blood running cold. 

She wanted to turn around, wanted to affirm that what she was hearing was only imagination. But she couldn't. 

“Don't be afraid,” she felt the breath on her neck and jumped, barely suppressing her scream. She whipped around to see Keeper of the Seeds, bloody and gaunt, but happy.

Furiosas eyes began to water. She blinked against the tears forming in her eyes. The fear that was gripping her was so irrational but real.

“Stay back,” she whimpered, holding her stub out to Keeper.

“Furiosa, please,” pleaded Keeper gently, “There's nothing to fear, child,” 

Keeper of the Seeds stepped forward, her arms reaching out for Furiosa, “Come to me, Furiosa, your mother is waiting,”

“No!” Furiosa shrieked.

A body on the floor stirred, a War Boy.

“Immortan?” asked the War Boy sleepily.

Another roused next to him. “What's going on?”

Keeper continued towards Furiosa.

More of the Vault inhabitants rose, wondering what was happening. Capable had lit a lamp, expelling the dark and with it the vision of the Keeper of Seeds.

“Furiosa?” Capable's voice asked from the other side of the room. “What's wrong,”

Furiosa scrambled to regain her composure. She swallows hard, evening out her breaths, “I-I, the storm. It's passed,” she said.

The Citadelians looked at her.

“It's safe now. We can all head out in the morning,” Furiosa said.   
  
  


Morning came, and with it rumors that Immortan Furiosa was insane.

“Heard her talking to herself,” said a War Boy to another, “Heard her whimpering and crying like mad,”

“I think she saw a ghost,” said another War Boy.

“Rubbish,” chimed in yet another War Boy, “The only ghosts out here are the ones in your head,”

“Then Immortan’s head is nothing but ghosts,”

  
  
  
  


Off in the distance, Toast spotted a band of motorcycles approaching. 

She alerted a War Pup, who alerted a War Boy, who alerted Ace, who alerted Furiosa.

“How many?” asked Furiosa, once she made it down to The Wall.

“Maybe seven, eight?” Toast said with no amount of commitment.

She handed off her binoculars to Furiosa who spotted the party herself. She noted eight riders and their attire. They weren't canyon riders judging by their outfits and bikes. The bikes didn't belong to Gas Town either. 

The weeks following the storm had made for messy and tedious clean up. While the water had remain pristine and untouched, the crops fared a little worse. The housing suffered worse than that. 

The anticipation of violence prickled down Furiosa’s spine. It shook her hands and rattled her teeth. She handed the binoculars back to Toast. Today was as good as any for an attack, maybe even better.

“Get a scouting group together. Down the wall in fifteen minutes,” Furiosa commanded, her head suddenly swimming.

Toast shot her a thumbs up and rallied her troops. 

The riders were met at the edge of The Citadel limits.

Furiosa rode up first, followed closely behind by Toast and Ace. She stopped the bike, staying on it, keeping her hand on her sawed-off.

“State your business,” Furiosa said,

A man across from her spoke up, “We are from Battery City. We've heard stories of The Citadel and want to make a trade,” He got off his bike, removing his dark brown headscarf. He revealed his face to her-handsome, she supposed, if plain- and the underside of his scarf. Furiosa noted it was dyed a multitude of colors, bright and vibrant, it stung her eyes.

“For what exactly,” Furiosa asked.

The Scarf Man shrugged, “For what else, Aqua Cola?”

Furiosa’s eyebrow quirked, “What do you have in return?”

“News?” said the man, “There's a sandstorm, big, headed your way. We've been hit by it already,”

Furiosa shook her head, “Little late to the War party,”

“We have dyes and wears then, precious stones? Bullets, guzzoline?” Furiosa shook her head in refusal.

The man sighed and pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his pocket, “This then?”

“What is this?” Furiosa asked, taking it. She felt something slide and roll inside, carrying just a little weight with it.

“Those, are the last living tomato plant seeds. Tomatoes, sweet, tart things. Watery. Nutritious, would grow well here, I reckon,” and you can have em’ for some aqua cola,”

Furiosa looked over to Toast, raising the packet in her hand. Toast hopped off her bike and stood next to her Imperator. Furiosa handed her the seeds.

“These legit?” Toast asked, looking at the packaging. The paper was a relic from the old world, bright and happy people on the front, holding a basket of what Toast assumed the plant would eventually grow into.

“Legit as they come,” The scarfed man promised.

“Really, so you're not gonna trade us some shiny pebbles or sand for some water, right?” Furiosa questioned, taking the seed packet back from Toast.

“Miss, can I call you that? I fear the lads and I have heard of The Citadel but nothing about the people who live there,” The scarfed man said with a charming smile. 

Furiosa fixed him with a scowl,“You can call me Furiosa, Immortan Furiosa,”.

“Furiosa,” started the man with earnest, “Battery City is hard pressed for resources. It’s on its reserves. We rode out here for days. All we ask is for a few barrels of water. We don't have much, but we will give you whatever we can,”

“Who are you?” Furiosa asked then, eyeing up the scarfed man.

He looked at her, confused, “Gunner Bastich?”

“No, I mean who are you to, this Battery City place?”  

“A messenger, of sorts. Scouter, scavenger, tracker, whatever they need,” Gunner said.

“Then you can't bargain with me,” Furiosa said, “You can't promise me anything,”

“Immortan, please,” Gunner said stepping towards her.

Ace shot out an arm between him and Furiosa, “Back it up boy,” 

Gunner locked eyes with Ace, then looked at the gang of War Boys behind him, all were reaching for their guns.

“No one touches the Immortan,” said Ace, lowering his arm.

Furiosa regarded Ace and turned her attention back to Gunner, who scoffed.

“What is she, untouchable?” he asked, “A god?”

“‘Bout the closest thing you lot have out here in the wastes,” 

“Ace,” Furiosa snapped, her tone warning.

“All we ask for, Immortan Furiosa, is enough water to last us until we can fix our filtration system,” Gunner said.

Furiosa looked at him, guarded, “How do I know we can trust you?”

“You can't,” Gunner admitted, “And there's no way I can assure you. But for the sake of our city you must.” Gunner begged, “Immortan Furiosa, please, our children are dying. Many more will follow if we don't do something,” 

Toast's eyes widen. She shot at look at Ace and then to her Immortan. Furiosa nodded, affirming what Toast had asked with her eyes. 

“How many barrels do you think you'd need?” Furiosa asked, staring the sand.

“Five barrels,” Gunner replied with a stutter, “Its all we can carry for now-,”

“-Here's the deal, I'll let you take home five. In return you come back with your leader,” Furiosa said, “I want to make sure what you’re saying to me is true,”

“Fine,” Gunner answered, “We can do that,”

“For your sake, let's hope you can,” Furiosa started the bike. “Follow us to the the gates,” she commanded.


	3. Chapter 3

“They're from  _ where _ ?” asked Capable.

“Battery City,” said Toast deadpan, “They have kids.”

“Kids?” echoed Cheedo.

Furiosa nodded solemnly. 

While the War Boys were busy filling barrels of water, Furiosa had met with The Sisters. She briefed the others on what had happened as Gunner's group waited outside The Citadel.

“Can we trust them?” Capable asked.

“We better be able to,” Furiosa said.

“Right and if we can't, we'll kill him,” The Dag said, holding the sleeping Ragna in her arms.

“Immortan, the water is ready,” Said Ace, stepping into the room. He lowered his head in greeting to The Sisters.

“Start hauling it down,” Furiosa said, “I'll be down in a minute to see off our new friends,” 

Ace nodded, hurrying out of the room.

Toast crossed her arms, “Am I the only one seeing a downside to this,”

“No Toast, you're not,” Furiosa said, “But we're fucked either way,” she shrugged, “If what they're saying is true and we deny them water, who knows what they could do to us in retaliation. As I see it, letting them make off with a couple gallons water and some barrels is the best thing that could happen to us, even if they never come back.”

“They obviously knew where we are, finding us all the way out here,” Capable said, “But it's not like Joe was telling everyone he could about us,” 

“You're saying someone had to have told them?” Toast prodded.

“How else would they have found us? We aren't something you just stumble upon,” Capable said.

Cheedo made a small squeak, “You don't think the Road Warrior-,”

Furiosa shook her head, “Max? He barely talks to himself, why would he?” 

The mental image of a grunting and stoic Max stuck out in Furiosa’s mind. She waved it away, not daring to dwell on him for more than a minute in fear of what she might find.

“Word travels fast in the wastes. We just have to accept we’re not a secret anymore. Joe kept us all behind a locked door,” Furiosa said.

“And then we blew that schlanger wide open, way to go us-,” The Dag added.

“Lets just see how this pans out,” Furiosa proposed. “Give me some time to make up a plan in case this call goes sideways,”

The Sisters nodded in silent agreement.

“In case this does go down the proverbial shit pot, can I say that I think he's full of shit?” Toast asked.

“Okay, you've said it. Does your stomach feel better now, Toast?” Dag asked back.

“Yes I feel much better squeezing that out,” 

Furiosa rolled her eyes, “Time to go see them off, I guess,”

“Good luck then, I'll be at the top of the wall looking out for you,” Toast said.

Furiosa gave her a thumbs up and left

* * *

 

“You’re helping a lot of people. Battery City will be forever grateful,” Gunner said.

Furiosa rolled her eyes, “You don't need to keep selling me on this, I already gave you the water,” 

“All packed up, Bastich,” Said one of the riders.

Gunner nodded in acknowledgement. “Time to get going,” Gunner said. “We should be back in a few days time,”

“I'll be waiting,” Furiosa replied.

She watched the riders disappear over the horizon and stayed long after they'd gone.

Toast had eventually come down to get her, and by that time it was near sundown. “Everything alright?”

“Yes. I'm just caught up in my own thoughts I guess,” Furiosa replied, her voice hoarse.

Toast patted her on the back, “Lets get back up, I think some water and a protein bar will do you good,” 

Furiosa followed Toast inside.   
  


The last of the clean up had been finished by the time Furiosa woke up the next morning. Never in her life had she seen the Citadel move so fast.

Before, the Citadel was like a pond, staying in stasis until someone moved it or created a ripple. Now it was an ant colony, always busy, always moving.

“We have you thank for that,” 

This time Furiosa allowed herself a yelp and whipped her head around to find the source of the noise. Of course she already knew who it was.

“Now look at you, gone and threw yourself into a tizzy. And for what? Because a little old lady frightened you?” Keeper asked.

Furiosa laid her eyes on her now. Keepers ghost stood in the broad day light. From her neck gushed a steady stream of blood. While she looked gaunt and pale, her face still retained its trademark smirk. “Hello, love,”

“You're dead,” Furiosa said, feeling a tight pinching at the back of head.

“Keen observation,” Keeper replied.

“This is all in my head,” Furiosa said, “You're not real,”

“Maybe,” Keeper said dismissively, “But who really knows out here?”

Furiosa shook her head, she hopped out of bed and forced her shaking feet into her boots, “I'm going stir crazy,” she mumbled, “I've been stuck in the Citadel too long. I need to get away for a while,”

“Oh you're going for a drive? I'll come with you,” Keeper said following her out.

Furiosa hurried out, this time grabbing her arm. She barely had it on as she rushed out into the stone hallways, getting strange looks from the War Boys and Citadelians she passed.

“So you have a special place in mind, Furiosa? Secret rock cavern? Maybe you'd just like to go exploring today?” Keeper asked, as if this was just another morning, as if Furiosa had never left the Vuvalini and her life had just continued as it had before.

Furiosa charged on, finally having her arm secured. In her haste she barely noticed Cheedo and Dag coming up to her.

“Furiosa,” Dag said.

The Immortan stopped in her tracks. She looked past the girls at Keeper standing at the end of the hall. 

“Furiosa?” Dag asked again.

Her eyes looked to Dag who raised her brow at her. 

“What's wrong?” Furiosa asked. She looked down at the floor. “Where's Ragna?”

“She's in the gardens with Marra,” said Dag.

Furiosa looked to Cheedo, who was holding that big black book. “We were wondering if you'd want to come look at the crop situation,” 

Furiosa nodded dumbly, “Sure. Sure. I will. There's just something I need to do,”

Cheedo and Dag looked at each other with concern. Furiosa saw it in their eyes and hated it. Cheedo shook it off first and turned to Furiosa, “Come look for us in the gardens when you're ready,"

Furiosa again, nodded, and blew past them. 

Keeper was already ahead of her, walking at a  leisurely pace. Furiosa was determined to ignore her.

All the way down to the garage, Keeper was blissfully silent but stood by Furiosa’s side. When someone would approach her, Keeper would disappear, but then reappear on the far end of the room, watching as if she knew something Furiosa didn't.

Furiosa was thankful that she lost her in the noise and the chaos of the garage but it didn't last long. 

“I'm still here,” Keeper whispered in Furiosas ear, “I'm always here, even if you can't see me,”

Furiosa squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath before pressing on.

Ace was working on a bike when she came up on him. He greeted her as he always had, with a nod and a half smile. “Furiosa,” he said easily.

“Ace, I'm going for a ride. I need some air. Which bike is up and running?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Take Bessie over there. Full ration packs in case you get lost, or what have you,” Ace said, nodding at the black motorcycle leaning in the corner. 

Furiosa walked over it, she inspected the machine with her eyes. 

“You want a War Boy with you? I can get Toast if you'd prefer,” asked Ace.

“No,” Furiosa shook her head, “I won't be far. I just wanna get back on. Missed riding,” she said.

Through a cough, Ace laughed, “It's been a day,”

“A day too long,” Furiosa joked.

Ace shook his head, “Get out there then, signal if you need help, we'll do the same,”

Furiosa smiled. She took a deep breath and swung her leg over the bike. She started the motorcycle, her smile growing wider as it roared to life and purred. She slowly made her way out of the garage, gunning it once she was a safe distance away from the Citadel.

Furiosa could hear nothing over the screaming of the engine and the wind. She made a turn, going back in a smooth arch towards the Citadel. 

Furiosa slowed, rising just past the gates to wave at the figures along the wall and one she knew was Toast.

She rode past them, headed for a place just tucked away off to the side of the Citadel.

A small gulch, lined with dead bushes greeted Furiosa. This had been her personal sanctuary for years, at the least years she was allowed outside the Citadel walls.

It was here she came when she wanted to think to reminisce about the past. These days she had little time to do either. 

She killed the engine, got off the bike, and entered the gulch. She walked along the steep stone walls, basking in the sunlight streaming down between cracks and opening in the rocks above.

“This reminds me of home,” Keeper said, appearing beside Furiosa.

“It's why I come here,” Furiosa answered, her voice steady, “Reminds me of where mama came to pick flowers,”

The ghost was silent as Furiosa sat down. When she looked over, Keeper was sitting too. She stared at the vision for a long time, taking in the small details about her.

“It's incredible how much you remember about someone who's gone,” said Keeper.

Furiosa shook her head, “You're not entirely the same,” 

Keeper laughed, “Neither are you, love, suppose that's just how things go,” 

Furiosa looked out on the gulch, watching the sand and dust blow round in lazy circles. She imagined a river flowing through the bed once, ages ago.

“Why are you hear, Keep?” Furiosa asked softly. She turned to face the apparition. 

“I'm not sure. After all, I'm in  _ your  _ head, aren't I?” Keeper said, her eyes mischievous. 

“Are you?” Furiosa challenged. 

Keeper snickered, “Let's hope for your sake I am,” Keeper reached out for Furiosa who flinched away at the gesture. Keeper pouted but smirked once again, “C'mon, Fury, what's eating you? Worry? Guilt?”

Furiosa remained tight lipped, her eyes large and glassy. 

“Alright, I won't force you to talk,” Keeper conceded, “Never did in the first place,”

Furiosa looked away then. She wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees to her chest, resting on them.

“You look so much like Mary...she misses you, you know,” Keeper whispered.

Furiosa looked over at her. 

Her throat tightened, her vision blurred with tears.

In Keeper’s place was Mary Jo, smiling at her.

“Furiosa…” 

“Furiosa?” 

The Immortan turned to see Toast, walking towards her. 

She was so distracted, she didn't hear see Toast drive up on her bike. Someone could've easily snuck up on her and killed her, or worse. 

“Hey,” Furiosa said lamely.

Toast raised her brow, she sat down in the dirt next to Furiosa. “Are you okay?”

“Just thinking about somethings,” Furiosa said.

“Well stop that, you're always so fidgety and empty-headed. You remind me of Mac,” Toast said.

“Max?

“Yeah, that's what I said,” Toast agreed. “Honestly there isn't a name worth remembering that isn't John’s,” she nodded to the bike where the rifle rested against it

Furiosa snorted, “For some reason, I'm starting to feel some regrets,” 

“Why, because of the Battery City guy?” Toast asked.

Furiosa shrugged, “Maybe? I haven't been feeling like myself lately to be honest,

“You know you can tell me and the girls anything, Furiosa,” Toast said, “We’re here for you as much as you are for us,”

Furiosa looked at Toast, “You miss your family, Toast?”

The girl stiffened, “I suppose so. I mean, we weren't close. But I guess I miss having some familiarity,”

“Do you hate that I took you?” she asked.

Toast smiled ruefully, “I did once. The first week I was here. But after a while I got that you were as trapped as any of us. You didn't have a choice,”

Furiosa shook her head, “Keeper of the Seeds, she...she was my grandmother. The mother of my mother,” Furiosa said.

“Oh, Furiosa I'm sorry,”

She shook her head again, “Don't be. I lived a long time without her, I thought she passed already in my absence but seeing her again… it's odd to mourn a second time for someone you thought you'd lost already,”

Toast and Furiosa sat in silence for a minute, watching the dust and sand move. Slowly Toast intertwined her fingers with Furiosa’s, as the Immortan had with other own mother.

Neither woman said a word. They just smiled at one another and watched the sun move across the sky.

* * *

They returned just before sunset.

Furiosa’s mind felt a little more at ease as she walked into the garage that was closing up for the night.

Toast had gone off to resume her usual chores, leaving Furiosa alone.  

The Immortan made her way to the gardens, in search of Cheedo and Dag.

She found them digging in the dark soil, removing dead crops, putting new spouts in their place. 

“Lucky we had these in reserve,” said Cheedo.

“I told you it wasn't a waste of space,” Dag said.

“It was at the time,” Cheedo argued.

“Fury,” said Ragna with a happy clap of her hands. 

Furiosa smiled at Ragnarok and knelt in the damp soil to place her flesh hand in the girls head. “Hello,” she said.

The girl gripped joyfully into Furiosa’s arm, peering up at her with Dags grayish blue eyes. 

“Furiosa, come look at these crops,” said Cheedo.

“Ragna, come to mum,” Dag beckoned.

Furiosa stood, holding the little girl’s hand as they walked over to the other two. 

Furiosa’s eyes scanned the ground. The open air gardens had been ravaged by the storm. Many of the crops with shallow roots had been ripped from their place while the hardier ones remained. Furiosa felt lucky that the sturdier plants had been the ones that the Citadel subsisted on. 

“We spent all day replacing the dead or missing ones,” said Cheedo, “I don't think it's anything we have to worry about. But it'll be like when we started until the crops grow back,”

Furiosa released Ragna’s hand and took note of just how many sprouts had to be planted to replace the lost crops.

“What do we have left?” Furiosa asked.

“Some beans, some root vegetables,” said Dag.

Furiosa nodded, “The Citadel has survived on less, for years in fact. I think we'll be okay,”

“It's just disappointing,” Cheedo said, “All that hard work and it's gone,” 

Although Cheedo had matured in the last few years she certainly retained a childishness about her that Furiosa found so endearing.

“It'll be alright, we just have to keep going,” Furiosa said. Cheedo conceded with an agreeable shrug. 

“Maybe we can make some canvas coverings like we have for the outside to put over the gardens,” Dag suggested.

“That's a good idea, I'll have Toast look into it,” Furiosa said. 

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the gardens. Ragna waved goodbye to the sun.

“Why don't you two finish up here and get something to eat,” Furiosa said.

Cheedo and Dag nodded. Furiosa rose from the ground and dusted off her leathers. “I'll see you down there,” she said over her shoulder.

* * *

But Furiosa had been absent from dinner,opting instead to take a protein bar-made of bean paste, water, and beets- to the lookout nest atop the wall. 

Capable had found her there, the Immortan in quiet contemplation, sitting under the dim glow of a lantern. 

“Fancy some company?” Capable asked, already sitting down, “The girls missed you at dinner,”

Furiosa made a noise, “Didn't feel like sitting around so many people,”

“We had bean soup if you were curious,” Capable said.

Furiosa knew that she meant nothing more than hot water, flavored just a bit with salt and less than a handful of beans thrown in. Joe had better meals, but then again, Joe hadn't been feeding an entire citadel.

Furiosa snapped off another piece of her protein bar and chewed it.

Capable waited for her to finish, “Toast told me you were in the gulch today,”

“Oh did she?” Furiosa mused.

Capable looked out on the darkened horizon, “Said you didn't even flinch when she rode up, like you didn't even hear her,”

Furiosa bobbed her head, “I've been stuck inside my own head lately,” She admitted.

“Yeah, Toast told me about Keeper,” Capable said. “Grandmother, was it?”

Furiosa nodded.

“I had a grandmother too, once. She died a little after you took me, or so I heard,” Capable said.

Furiosa had known that woman, not well. Just well enough to know that the old woman died of a broken heart. Capable had been all the old woman had when the girl's parents died. Furiosa had ended up telling some War Boys what happened, knowing they'd spread the news to her because she didn't have the courage to face Capable herself.

Yet another thing to regret, another ghost to haunt her.

“It's okay to feel not like yourself,” Capable said, resting her hand on Furiosa’s thigh. “We've all been there,”

The Immortan smiled at Capable. The girl's compassion would never cease to amaze her.

Furiosa was about to say something back when she heard the steady hum of a bike off in the distance.

She got to her feet, getting to the spy glass.

“Who is it?” Capable asked, standing at Furiosa’s side.

“I don't know,” Furiosa said, but her gut told her the bike was familiar. She looked to her left where other War Boy watchers were now gathering, looking out into the distance for the mysterious rider.

“Open the gates,” Furiosa said to the nearest War Boy, “Prep the lift, I'm going down,” 

Furiosa turned to leave, but Capable caught her arm, “I'm coming with you,” she said taking the lantern off it's hook.

“It might be dangerous,” Furiosa stated.

“Yea, but I'm better at talking my way out of a sticky situation,” Capable said.

Furiosa couldn't argue and continued with Capable on her heels. A War Boy held out a rifle for Furiosa who took it in her arms and cocked it.

She and Capable got into the lift and stood as it lowered to the ground. 

The chains of the lift wiggled as Toast came sliding down one, John slung over her shoulder.  “Trouble?” Toast asked.

“Maybe, can you get above us? You may need to take the shot in case I can't,” 

“On it,” Toast said, jumping off the lift and onto the rising counter weight.

Capable stuck close by Furiosa as they exited the lift and walked out the gate.

The bike slowed and rode up to then, stopping just a few yards ahead of them. 

“State your business,” Furiosa called out.

The rider had a person tied up on the on the back of the bike. In the low light, Furiosa could only make out that it was a man who hung off the back.

The rider raised his hands, “Its me,” Gunner said.

Furiosa was confused, but waved off her War Party.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, “I thought you were-,”

“I was, but I-ah- brought you a gift,” Gunner said, coming over to the side to pick up the body on his bike.

He hefted the man onto the sandy ground. Capable stood behind. The man had a bag over his head and his hands were bound.

“We made camp and caught him trying to steal a bike. He said he was from here, I figured you could be the judge of that,” Gunner explained.

Furiosa knelt and removed the bag from the unconscious  man's head.

For the second time that day she felt as if she was seeing a ghost.

Capable shined the lantern over the body and gasped.

“Nux!” the redhead collapsed to the ground to check the boy's pulse.

“So he is yours?” Gunner said.

“Yes, yes. Was he okay?” Capable asked, “When you found him?”

Gunner made a non committal gesture, “Well enough to knuckledust me and my mates if that's what you're asking,” 

Capable held the boy's head in her lap, stroking the sides of his face.

Furiosa whistled sharply and two War Boys came running out. “Get him to the infirmary. Capable go with them, I'll take it from here,”

The War Boys and Capable hurried inside, Toast emerged from the Citadel in their place.

“Seems the sandstorm gave him back,” she said, watching Capable disappear into the Citadel, “Wonder what other surprises it has for us,”

Furiosa made a dismissive noise, “I don't,”

“Hey, if someone could dig up my dad that’d be pretty surprising. I got a few words for that smeg,” Toast said.

Furiosa rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Gunner.

“Get your bike, get inside. There's a few too many things out here that bother me at night, large portion of which are raiders,” Furiosa said.

Gunner didn't hesitate and hopped back on his motorcycle. 

Furiosa sat in the empty dining area and watched Gunner eat bean soup. Not how she imagined her evening, but not entirely unwelcome.

The man ate rather hesitantly hinder her scrutiny. He pushed the soup around in the bowl, mashing the beans, pouring a little with his spoon.

“It's awful,” Furiosa said matter of factly.

“N-no,” Gunner said, “Its just-,”

“Hot water and beans,” Furiosa said,

“You're looking at me like you're expecting something,” Gunner finally said, “Am i supposed to be doing something?”

Furiosa shook her head, “No, I apologize. It's just a bad habit,”

Gunner nodded, “So the lad,”

“Nux?” 

“Yeah, do he and the ‘ranga have a history?” Gunner asked.

Furiosa half shrugged, “You could definitely say that. She's sweet on him,” 

Gunner nodded, playing with his soup again, “That's nice. I'm glad that still exists out here,”

Furiosa hummed. 

The light steps of Capable were heard echoing off the stone walls. She emerged from the stairwell covered in sweat and dirt.

“He’s okay,” she said with a brilliant smile.

Furiosa had to smile too, “Glad to hear it,” she said. Furiosa stood, coming to rest her hand on Capable’s shoulder. 

Gunner stood, standing before Capable, “I suppose I owe you an apology for roughing up the boy,” he ran a hand through his sand colored hair, “Got a good left hook, he does,”

Capable shot him a polite smile, “I'll excuse the fight if it means I get him back,” she said.

“He’s all yours,” Gunner said with a dry laugh.

“I'm going to get back to him,” Capable said, “could you have a room prepared for him in the morning?”

Furiosa nodded, “Of course,”

She smiled again and disappeared up the stairs.

“Lovely girl, she is,” Gunner said.

Furiosa glared. 

Gunner raised an eyebrow and looked away, “I meant to say, she's a good kid, you know. Good head on her shoulders,” 

Furiosa huffed. She rested her hands on her hips, “So, what do we do with you?” 

“Best be heading off, make up for lost time with the boys,” Gunner said with a shrug.

Furiosa pursed her lips, then crossed her arms, “You can ride that long?”

“Done it before,” 

“I'd agree, but I don't think the girls would let me live it down if I didn't at least ask our Battery City ambassador to stay the night,” Furiosa said.

“Why's that?”

“The girls are all about hospitality,’ She said, “Before we ran the place, the Immortan who dictated the Citadel turned away everyone,”

Gunner nodded, “I'd be happy to stay if you'd have me,” he said, “I'd also be perfectly fine leaving right now,”

Furiosa smiled, just a tiny bit, “Come up, I'll let you meet the family,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Posting another chapter for my lurkers and followers. I really do enjoy this fic and I think it's one of my better plotted works since I have a clear idea of where I want it to go. Lemme know how ya'll like this if you feel like it and I'll see everyone in the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> Along with some TVTrope articles I read regarding MM in order to get a feel for the film, I came across some stuff in the comics that implied/stated that as punishment, Joe would allow his son Rictus rape The Wives. I decided that Dag's baby would have Rictus as her father which would be why Dag's baby would be a lower priority (you know besides the fact that she wasn't showing and that Angharad was the favorite and that Immortan Joe probably wasn't aware).


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